Bobby
by Simahoyo
Summary: Bobby Marino has just transferred to the BPD from Seattle. The other cops don't know he was fired, and why. We all know he's a jerk, so be prepared. This story is in part based on a true story, and it is dark.
1. Chapter 1

**Bobby**

**By Simahoyo**

**(Bobby Marino has just transferred to the BPD from Seattle. The other cops don't know he was fired, and why. We all know he's a jerk, so be prepared. This story is in part based on a true story, and it is dark.)**

Bobby Marino, fresh from the Seattle PD, added himself to the unis gathered for roll call. Instead of taking a seat, he lined himself up with the others leaning against the wall. He knew from experience, this was where the tough cops gathered, and he wanted them to see him right off.

He half listened as the roll was called, he was introduced, and told he was with someone called, Rizzoli.

"Hope he's not one of those tight asses.", he thought.

They droned on with details about cases. His eyes wandered to the window when the most incredible Bitch walked by outside. She was tiny, as women went, with long blonde hair, and great curves. God, he hoped she was easy. Those high heels almost promised she was.

After roll call, his trainer came up to him. Kinda young guy–looked Italian. Could be Rizzoli.

"Marino? I'm Frank Rizzoli, you'll be training with me. Understand you're from Seattle."

Bobby stood up proudly, "Yeah. I sure am."

"Ok, let's get rolling. Unless you have questions."

"Yeah, what's this little thing on my belt?", he was fingering the little pepperspray bottle.

"That's pepperspray."

"That little dinky thing? Where's the canisters?", He spread his hands a foot apart to indicate the right size.

"We never use those."

His jaw dropped. "What the hell do you use on protesters?"

"We usually don't have much trouble with them. When it gets out of hand, we know how to handle it.. C'mon, let's get going."

Marino followed Rizzoli out to the squad car, sat in the passenger seat, and waited. This Rizzoli guy might be ok. He'd try to get to know the guy. Maybe just yak a little.

"I saw this hot bitch walk by during roll call. You know the ladies around the station?"

Rizzoli looked at him, waiting.

"She was a little blond, curvy as hell, and wearing stilettos. Know her?"

Rizzoli did not look happy. With Marino's luck, this was his trainer's girl.

"If you are describing Doctor Isles, watch it with her, she's practically family. I won't tell you not to go near her, but if she says, 'No.', she means it."

Like most trainers, Rizzoli drove, and he talked most of the time as they started their patrol.

"You need to get to know the streets. I packed a Thomas guide here", Rizzoli reached down and brought up a Thomas Boston Metro Street Guide, handing it to Marino. "Memorize this. You can take it home with you."

"Thanks. I'll need to do that. Should a start in any particular neighborhood?"

"No, because we could get called to another area on an emergency."

"Who are the troublemakers to watch out for?"

Rizzoli compressed his lips. He obviously didn't like the question.

"Watch for trouble from anyone, anywhere. You don't want to get lazy, or you could get dead."

Fair enough, he could get that reasoning.

"Marino, have you ever driven in snow and ice?"

There it was. Everyone thought Seattle drivers didn't know how to drive in snow. He'd done it lots of times.

"Hey just because we have all those dangerous hills and tight turns, everyone mocks our winter driving."

Rizzoli's answer was to drive until they zipped up a huge hill dotted with mansions.

"This is Beacon Hill. The statehouse is at the top. You want to take a look at Breed's Hill, and see if you can handle it in an ice storm. Any questions?"

"Our snow is wetter than anywhere else."

"Yeah Okay."

The rest of the day went downhill. When they got back to the station, Bobby made himself scarce as fast as he could. In the locker room, he caught the eye of one of the back wall crowd, and introduced himself. The cop's name was Blount. He was short, balding, and muscle packed.

"Hey, my trainer is Rizzoli. What's the deal with him?"

"Aw, he's by the book. You know the type.", Blount made a sour face.

"Not really, I came from Seattle."

"You gotta be nutz to leave there." Blount stuffed some junk in his locker. "They let you get away with anything."

"Almost." Bobby looked at his shoes, reliving his firing from the SPD.

"Oh My God. Are you the guy?" Blount looked excited.

"What guy?"

"The only cop in the history of the SPD to get fired."

Bobby slammed his locker closed. "It was self-defense. He had a knife, for God's sake."

"So I heard. Wasn't it a NHI shooting?" Blount's eyes narrowed.

Bobby felt warm all over. Someone got it.

"Yeah, a homeless Indian. Defiantly No Humans Involved. Don't let it get around, ok?"

"Sure. Just to cops who would support you."

"Oh, and what's the deal with this Doctor Isles? She's something else. But Rizzoli ..."

"Watch it. Rizzoli's got a thing for her. Everyone knows it too. Well, except maybe the Doc." Blount shut his locker.

"What, is she a lezzie?"

Blount started to guffaw. "No way. I'd tell you how many guys I've seen her with, but I can't count that high. Go for it, but don't let Rizzoli catch you."

So, Bobbie figured he now had an ally. That was a start. He took off out of the police station and almost ran into this tall, gorgeous brunette.

"Ooops, sorry about that. I'm new here, and don't know my way around." He tried his sexy smile.

She looked at him like something stuck on the bottom of her shoe.

"So you thought running into me, literally, would help you find your way?"

"Uh, no, but it gave me a chance to say, 'Hi.'"

She smiled, and the smile was a doozy. "Yeah, so who are you, new guy?"

"Bobby Marino. I just transferred from the West Coast."

"Detective Jane Rizzoli."

Bobby's stomach sunk down to his shoes. Rizzoli.?

"That's my trainer's name. You related"

"He's my brother."

"Oh great. Every woman I meet is either related to him, or he has a thing for."

Jane laughed. "So, you met Maura? If you offend her, he'll try to rearrange your face. On the other hand, if you push me too far, I'll do it myself."

"I hope you're kidding. I'd love to get to know you better."

"You'd be safer with Maura."

"Maybe I don't like to play it safe. Want to go for coffee sometime?"

Yeah, sure. I'm up in homicide. Drop by tomorrow after your shift."

"Great. I'll see you then."

Bobby was a happy man. A new friend, and a drop dead gorgeous bitch in one day.

TBC


	2. Chapter 2

Bobby Chapter 2

By Simahoyo

It was the second day for Bobby Marino, of re-learning how to be a patrolman in Boston, instead of Seattle. It was a super nice day, and Bobby was distracted, looking at the blue sky, without a single cloud. This was a rare occurrence at home, and he really wanted to see and remember it before the rain came back.

"Hey, Marino, get your head out of the clouds. We gotta go.", said Rizzoli.

"What clouds? Not even a tiny little cirrus cloud up there. Wow. And last night I could see the stars. And the moon was full."

"Yeah, well get your eyes on the bad guys. In the squad car, weatherman." Frankie grinned.

Bobby wondered what he might say if he knew that his dumb little trainee was going for coffee with his sister later. He liked having secrets. He got in the squad car and they drove, looking for troublemakers. They were in some kind of place like the University District in Seattle, and _Frat Rats_ were running all over like they owned the world. Bobby knew never to arrest them for minor stuff. You never knew who their fathers were. So, he was shocked when Rizzoli parked where a group of them where yakking in the middle of the street.

Rizzoli got out and walked over to the knot of _Frat Rats_. He wasn't even deferential. So Bobby followed, waiting to see what would happen.

"Hey Guys, how you doing? Sorry to do this, but you're blocking traffic. Take it to one side of the road of the other." And Rizzoli smiled.

"Hell no! We aren't hurting anyone." Said a beefy blond kid who was wearing a football jersey.

The traffic was starting to line up behind the cars and kids. Now they were honking to get them out of the way. Bobby got ready to rumble.

"You are trying their patience. Come on, break it up."

The blond kid pushed Rizzoli. Bobby jumped in with his billie club, and whacked the kid hard.

Rizzoli turned and yelled, "What the Hell, Marino? Back off. Don't escalate the situation."

Bobby ignored him, choke holding the kid and starting to _Marandize_ him. He nailed him on assaulting a police officer and resisting arrest. The other _Frat Rats_ started to mumble, and make fists with their hands. They were gathering around Bobby. Head bashing time!

Rizzoli walked over to him, and made him release the prisoner. He started talking to the kid like he was actually going to listen.

"Hey, sorry about that. My partner got a little over-eager. What say we call it off, and you guys just move out of the middle of the street, so people can get past. Okay?"

"What?, I saw him assault you. Are you just letting him get away with it?"

"He pushed me. No harm no foul. Right?", and he turned to the blonde kid.

"Yeah, but that guy", he pointed to Bobby, "Needs to cool down."

The _frat rats_ moved and the cars went on down the road. Rizzoli was not smiling now.

"What the hell was that? You know we don't escalate the situation, especially with a crowd. Next time, wait until I tell you before you wade in swinging your stick."

"Yes sir.", and Bobby pretended to hang his head. They went back to patrolling, while Bobby smiled to himself about his date tonight with Rizzoli's sister.

The rest of the day was boring as hell. Bobby studied his Thomas Guide. They talked very little, and Bobby expected a bad report on his day. Well damn. He could do it Rizzoli's way until he could get a more with it partner.

He finally escaped the uptight Rizzoli, and headed upstairs to meet the gorgeous Rizzoli.

Bobby walked into the bullpen, and there were two male detectives, one an old guy, and the other was Black. Probably some kind of quota hire. Jane Rizzoli was typing something on her computer, but when she looked us, her smile was a dazzler.

"Hey. How's it going?"

"Give me a sec. I'm finishing a report. Hate those." She typed a few more words, and hit save.

Then she turned to him. "So, Bobby Marino, this is Detective Korsak. The old guy looked up and nodded. "And Detective Frost." The black guy looked at him, and smiled.

"Hi. Nice to meet you." They started to leave the building. "Where some good coffee?"

"There's a coffee shop around the corner. It beats the stuff in the cafeteria downstairs. Plus, I can avoid my mother."

She gave an exaggerated shudder, then grinned.

"Wow, you're surrounded by family. Bet you can't get away with anything."

Jane laughed, and he was digging on the sound.

"I escape from time to time. Plus, if I do anything crazy, it's usually with my best friend, Maura. She talks me into the damnedest things."

"I think I saw her my first day. A little blonde in stilettos?"

"Yeah, she's a bit vertically challenged. Super smart, and a lot of fun–well, when you meet her, you'll understand what I mean."

They went into the coffee place, which wasn't too crowded. There was a blackboard over the counter, listing espresso, cappuccino, and various coffees. But no latte. Damn it. Maybe someone here used to work at Starbucks.

Jane ordered a large black coffee, with sugar. Bobby gave it a shot.

"Could I get a latte? Double tall, soy, shot of hazelnut?"

The barista glared at him. No. We don't do all that Chi Chi Seattle stuff here. Order from the board. That's what it's there for."

Bobby went passive aggressive in the best Seattle style. He waited. Reading the board slowly, then ordered an espresso with soy milk. He took his time with paying. Then he and Jane sat down.

"You don't like to be told what to do, right?", asked Jane.

"You noticed, huh?", he laughed. She had caught him.

"I'm like that too, but not as nice about it.", she sipped her coffee. She had these enormous brown eyes.

"Not bad espresso. I really miss Starbucks. Guess you can take the boy out of Seattle,,,"

"But not the Seattle out of the Boy?", Jane smiled again.

"Right. I need to learn Boston. What do you recommend?", and Bobby leaned in closer.

"I'm the Sox fan from hell. Get to know the team. It's like our state religion."

"Yeah. They win, which would be a nice change. Your brother is...I guess concerned is the right word, about me driving in snow. I guess Seattle drivers have a bad reputation."

"Yeah, your out of staters post the wreaks on Utube. It doesn't help your reputation any. Just take it easy at first. Stick a bag of kitty litter in your trunk. It really helps. And get snow tires early, before the rush."

"Huh. Good idea. Thanks."

"So, what brought you here from Seattle, cause it sure isn't the weather."

Bobby laughed, although his heart wasn't in it. "I needed a change. Too much the same old same old. I saw a blue sky today, and not a cloud to be seen, then last night I could actually see stars. That's amazing."

Jane looked started. "For real? I heard you got a lot of rain, but wow. You are impressed by seeing the stars at night?"

"Yeah. It doesn't rain all the time, but we have cloud cover nearly every day. I missed all the comets and eclipses of the moon."

"I think you should go to the Hayden Planetarium. I think you could make up for the stuff you missed." Jane was nodding as she spoke.

"So, would you go with me?", and Bobby kind of held his breath.

"Sure. Give me a call." Jane fished her card out of the holder, and wrote her home number on the back.

By the time they parted, Bobby was deeply in lust.

TBC


	3. Chapter 3

Bobby Chapter 3

By Simahoyo

The next morning, Bobby wanted to kill the alarm clock. He sat up, headache pounding, neck stiff and feeling like he had Seattle Crud. He also knew that wasn't possible. Seattle Crud was a disease local to Seattle. Maybe Boston had some nasty local thing of it's very own. This was his third day of work, and he wasn't going to call in sick.

He pushed himself into clothes, shaved, while wincing at the sound of the shaver, brushed his teeth, and went out the door hoping he could survive the day.

By the time he got to the downstairs cafeteria, he felt like death warmed over. The waitress came over with coffee and a cup. She looked at him with compassion.

"Are you feeling alright?" While she poured the coffee.

"No. I feel awful."

She actually put her hand on his forehead, but he was too sick to be embarrassed.

"You have a fever. You shouldn't be here. You should go home."

Bobby drank coffee because he really needed it. But his hands were shacking.

"I can't wimp out on my third day."

She tilted her head, looking at him.

"Are you being trained by Frankie Rizzoli?", she asked.

"Uh, yeah. How did you? Oh, you're his mother."

"Yes. Angela Rizzoli. I can tell him you're sick and..." she suddenly looked up and smiled, motioning to someone. "Maura.. You should talk to this young man. He's not feeling well."

The hot blonde he saw his first day was standing beside him, and his heart rate went up.

"I usually work with dead people, Angela." But she turned and looked at him, checking him over like any doctor.

"He has a fever." offered Angela.

"Hmmm. Any breathing problems?""

"No. I just feel like a was run through a cement mixer."

"Come with me to my office and I'll do a more complete exam."

When she looked at him, he noticed those amazing eyes. It was almost worth it feeling so crappy, to spend time with...oh hell, Rizzoili's crush. So he followed her to her office.

She sat him down and took out a stethoscope. She checked his chest, and his heart rate went wild. She looked at him with a lopsided smile.

"Is this your usual heart rate, or are you registering my proximity?"

"It's you. I'd say I'm sorry, but you'd know it's a lie."

She put a thermometer in his ear. Waited. Checked her watch, then took it out to read.

"!03. That's bad. How do your muscles feel?"

"Achy, like the flu. And I have a headache, and an upset stomach."

"On the surface, it sounds like flu. But, you come from..."

"Seattle."

"Roll up your pants legs."

"Huh?"

"Roll up your pants legs. I want to check for something."

So Bobby rolled up his pants legs while Maura got her magnifying glasses. She examined his right leg, then the left. She paused, poking at one particular area that looked like a spider bite.

"This is likely to be the early reaction to a tick bite. Have you heard of Lyme Disease?"

"No. Is that some local thing, like the Seattle Crud?"

"If that's what you have, I'd go to a doctor right away. Not me, one for living people." She nodded, tucking her chin under and smiling.

Bobby was hooked.

His trip to the doctor got him a matching diagnosis, and a prescription for antibiotics. He was back at work in no time. Now he had a balancing act to do. He dated Jane, and went home with Maura, until she sent him home. She wasn't the over-night type. Bobby didn't care. He was having a blast.

The next two weeks flew by. Days with one Rizzoli, two nights a week with the gorgeous Rizzoli, and three nights a week with Maura. This was the high life. He passed his re-training and was rid of the Rizzoli he wanted to ditch. Now it was clear sailing...until.

It was raining. All the other cops at the Dirty Robber were whining about the weather. Bobby was laughing inwardly. This was nothing. He still didn't own an umbrella, and that was a point of pride. He grabbed a beer, and scanned the room. Neither Rizzoli was there. Neither was Maura.

So he found Blount, who shoved a chair his direction. Bobby turned it backward, so he looked tougher. Three other cops were sitting with Blount. One was a big, tall dude, with that halfway to blonde hair nobody could think of a name for. One was real Irish looking, with red hair and blue eyes. The third guy was beat up looking, like an ex-boxer.

"Hey, Blount, how's it hanging?"

"Hey Marino, did you bring all that rain with you from Seattle?"

"Heh, you call that rain? We get sideways rain in Seattle. So, wassup?"

"I gotta tell the other guys about you. OK?"

"Yeah. If you trust them, sure."

"So, this is the guy from Seattle that shot the homeless guy. You know, the one the papers call a woodcarver. He says the guy pulled a knife on him. Yeah, right." Blount leaned foward..

Marino grinned, and raised his glass to them. "Yep, that's what I said. Too bad the Crime Scene creeps got a photo of it closed next to his body. Here was this drunk Indian–a homeless guy, wandering around like he owned the place, and when I shot him, the Seattle Police Guild actually let them fire me. How sick is that?"

"Yeah, but you're here now, and among friends. So, what do you want to do next?", asked the ex-boxer dude.

"Make money. It's at the top of my list. Even if I have to cut into my skirt chasing time."

Blount looked up at the door, and told Bobby, "You may not get any after tonight."

Bobby looked where he was looking and paled. Both Maura and Rizzoli were coming in the door

together.

TBC


	4. Chapter 4

Bobby Chapter 4

By Simahoyo

Seattle–Mid February

The beautiful totem pole was finally ready. Family members and volunteers had carved it the traditional way, from a single, perfect cedar log. The carving took nearly a year. The pole was painted in bright, cheerful colors, a counterpoint to the weather and why the pole had been carved.

Family and friends who all felt honored to be chosen, fit the carrying poles under the totem, and they lifted together–a community united in sorrow and joy. This was a memorial to a traditional woodcarver shot down as he crossed a street in broad daylight, listening to his music, and carrying the tools of his trade-his closed carving knife, and the mini pole he was working on. His death left a hole in their hearts.

The pole, and a crowd following, took the pole miles away up to the park next to the space needle. Modern and original together. Both meant to soar up. It took an hour to get the pole raised in freezing, yet sunny weather. Long ropes were attached as crews of people work to get it exactly straight. The crowd was so huge, they had to be asked to move so the giant pole could swung around, then pulled upright.

Once it was in the ground came the songs and dances and speeches. The stories about the man being honored, about his death, about how his family had turned away from anger and revenge.

No one talked about his killer.

Bobby Marino was getting nervous. Both women had walked into the Dirty Robber together,

Maura saw him and smiled. Jane nodded at him. Then, Maura looked at Jane and asked a question. Jane looked at Maura, surprised. Then both looked angry. Maybe they were fighting over him. A guy could hope–right? But they both glared at him. Maura turned around and left. Jane gave him a very Italian salute before she left with Maura.

"OH God."

The other cops laughed. "There goes your skirt chasing time."

"Win some, lose some. I have more time to make money. So, tell me about it."

Their heads moved together as they discussed the protection insurance they offered to illegal immigrants operating small businesses in the city. It sounded like a good deal, and now that Rizzoli wasn't dogging him, he could be a real cop.

That was the day he felt at home in Boston.

Bobby decided to show the Boston cops a thing of two. He went to a place with special hardwood-ironwood, and ordered a 1 yard baton to be made for him to carry, like they did at home.

Pretty soon he was sporting it in his belt in place of the standard issue. His cop pals all ordered one for themselves. Bobby was feeling pleased. He was out in front–something he needed to be.

He saw Rizzoli, but avoided him. The guy acted like he owned Boeing. And his sister ignored him. Maura, well, that was different. She never was all that into him anyway. No sense thinking about her. She'd move on to the next guy. He found out from some of her ex-whatevers that her nickname was, "The Queen of the Dead.". So, to get even, he used it too. But he kind of missed her. She was great in bed.

Bobby caught the night shift. It was good for collection insurance from the open all night places owned by illegals. They were scared to death of him–like it should be.

So, he was collecting from some Chinese guy, when some stupid kids walked in throwing their weight around. Hey, it was part of the deal to beat up anyone who messed with their clients, so when he saw one of the kids slip a beer into his jacket, he quietly asked the guy if his security camera worked. The guy shook his head. Cool! Head breaking time. He took out his special baton, and jumped the kid, slamming down on his head–hard. The beer landed on the floor, and sprayed all over. The other kid ran for it. The shopkeeper looked both impressed and horrified.

"You saw him. He was stealing, and he jumped me–right?"

The shopkeeper nodded.

Bobby called 911, and they took the little thief away. Sure, he had to fake his way through the reports, but what the hell. He'd filled out thousands of those before. One more was not a big deal.

The other cops covered for him, like cops should. Not like last time in Seattle. In turn, he showed them how to game the dash cams in their squad cars. They were laughing when he showed them how easy it was. Sometimes it was like being a teenager again. They drank, tore around, banged heads, showed people who the boss was.

Bobby was feeling pretty good, until Maura saw him in the parking lot, and didn't ignore him. He wondered what she might has to say. Maybe she could forget all about the little trick he'd played on her and Jane.

"Hi.", he said, just a hair wary.

"Bobby. I googled you. Does anyone on the force know what you did in Seattle?"

Bobby was pissed. "Not your business. It's bad enough I got fired, but it was a righteous shoot, and I'm sick of getting grief about it." He tried to calm down, because her face told him she wouldn't take any excuses.

"Not according to the Department of Justice. Don't play me. I don't like it. Just tell me what really happened."

Bobby looking into those amazing eyes, and took a breath. "Ok, it was a rotten day. I had a bunch of run ins with this guy, and yeah, he was some kind of wood carver. He made little totem poles for tourists. But he drank, and he could get nasty. So when I saw him, I thought I could get even."

Her eyes bored through looking for truth. He was starting to sweat.

"Why did you feel the need to get even?"

"He disrespected me and the uniform. He acted like he was superior. I hate that."

"Bobby. Have I ever treated you that way?"

"Ummm, no. I mean, with all your education and stuff, I figured you might, but you're not like that. And you never lied to me. I appreciate that."

"So, were your emotions in charge when this happened?"

"He had a knife. I needed something to protect myself from him."

"I saw the video."

Bobby was silent. She had disarmed him. He wanted to hate her. He wanted to sleep with her.

It was like an arcade in his head. She could mess him up with a look.

"There was nothing on the video. I made sure of it."

Maura looked sad. She shook her head

"What are you afraid of?". Her head leaned to one side, her eyebrows furrowed. If she didn't make him so damn nervous–Hell, he could see why Rizzoli had a thing for her.

"You asking me for too much. I can't be that way with you."

"What way? Honest?"

He wanted to hit her, and he didn't. He wanted to tell her the truth, and he couldn't. She was screwing with what made him Bobby Marino. He knew she could turn him upside down in ways he never thought about–she scared the hell out of him.

"I can't...don't you get it?"

"I'm afraid it do. Goodbye, Bobby."

Maura walked away while Bobby let part of his heart go with her. He had to bury this feeling.

He decided to get more work and more money. That would fix things.

TBC


	5. Chapter 5

Bobby Chapter Five

By Simahoyo

The warehouse was cold beyond anything Bobby had ever experienced. His teeth were literally chattering, and he was shivering. The rats were probably hiding somewhere, bunched together, lucky to have fur coats.

No such luck for Bobby Marino. He was waiting for a delivery. Didn't know what was inside. Didn't care. There was money to be had. He was all about the money these days. He shook his head to drive out thoughts of Maura. Damn, he could have had her...but he wasn't willing to give up...all of this. He gave a bitter laugh. His breath steamed out. He stamped his feet, then turned and drew his piece when he heard an engine. Somebody gave the coded knock. Bobby opened the door, still holding his gun on whoever might be there. Bobby has not big on trust.

The guy they called Danny was standing there. Bobby put his gun away. He motioned the truck inside. When it was in, Danny pulled the door shut. The driver, Danny and Bobby off loaded the truck, and stacked the boxes in a corner. Their job done, they locked up and scattered. Pay showed up in envelopes stuffed in each man's mailbox. It was a good job. Paid more than double Bobby's regular check.

He was drinking with his Buds at the Dirty Robber, wishing he could be with Maura. Damn that woman got under his skin. Blount was half way to shitfaced, when he got personal.

"You still moonin' over the Queen of the Dead? You can pick them, buddy boy. Heard that she and Rizzoli are going at it nowadays."

"Hell, everyone knows Rizzoli has a thing for her." But saying it made his gut twist.

"Nah, dummy. His sister and her. No wonder they shafted you."

A volcano erupted inside his stomach, and went half-way up his gut. God. They had both made a fool of him.

Niall looked at him, his battered face smiling. "The light dawns over Marblehead."

They all laughed, and Bobby didn't even know what it meant.

"What the hell is that supposed to mean?"

"It means you finally get it. You didn't use them, they used you. You were their beard."

Bobby exploded out of his chair. "NO! They wouldn't do that. They are way too honest. I'm booking."

He went home and went to bed. He dreamed of Maura.

Bobby felt cut off. His crew had dissed him. He was in deep with his moonlighting jobs, and he couldn't unring the bell. It was too late. John T. Williams had his revenge. Even when his family didn't want revenge, he had it. The only path left was down. He had no way out and he was sick.

It was continue or live like a rat. Maybe money would help him get out. Another city, another identity, another...

He went to the warehouse and got his assignment, to find the mole in their organization. Nothing left except to do it.

The End

A/N The rest can be found in "The Gun goes Bang Bang." and some excellent stories about what happened to Bobby next. John T. Williams really lived and died. He is remembered in the hearts of those who knew him, or any of his family, as well as the people of Seattle.


End file.
